View Full Version : [2. NEW vs. 4. A1E] HAL vs. Big Dog

10-10-06, 12:09 AM
One fall to a finish, no time limit.

Deadline for RP is Wednesday, October 18th at 11:59:59 PM.

10-12-06, 11:03 PM
(FADEIN to the messy basement. An "ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US" poster is taped onto the fake wood panelled wall. The enormous frame of Harold A. Lumbourgh sits in a small plastic computer chair with cheap gray apolstery. He types away at his computer screen, where three slick 21" widescreen monitors are aligned in a row. After a few minutes, he turns around and faces the camera.)

HAL: "Another day, another round. This time, it's Big Dog and the vaunted A1E. Imagine my surprise...

"Save me the history lesson, Big Dog, and do us all a favor and don't bother telling us about how great A1E is.

"We heard that from WZW... and NAPW... and EPW.

"We heard their cries of glory and pride and empty-headed, muscle-bound men with no plan.. no strategy.

"Perhaps, Big Dog, where you come from, you're kind of a big deal. Here, in the TEAM tournament, you're just another slack-jawed yokel who can't code his way out of a paper basket...

"I know the types. Big, burly guys who pushed their way through the competition. But see, here's the thing.

"Every once awhile, in this enormous probability matrix, you end up with some freak like me... someone who doesn't exactly.. belong.

"I knew from a very young age that a computer could be a better friend than a human ever could. Unlike a human, its logic cannot be broken... it is bound by the physical laws... not senseless emotions like pride and glory.

"See, Big Dog... perhaps, in A1E, you have your place. An old timer preachin' the old timer ways.

"But this is the digital generation. We don't own LPs; we own iPods. You're like an old Apple IIe playin' in a game of Core 2 Duos... yeah, you had your place. You were a rung in the ladder.

"But the ladder is higher now... parallel processors streaming along 64-bit buses...

".. and you, Big Dog. You're about to be obsolete.

"Welcome to the new game, Big Dog. Same as the old game... except there's no wins and losses... just ones and zeroes.

"And you, my friend... well, I think we both know what signal YOU are."

(FADEOUT to his him smirking... )

10-16-06, 11:09 PM
BigDog walks the corridors with a gym bag over his shoulder. Without breaking stride or looking at the camera, he speaks.

BigDog: Semifinals ...

BigDog takes a few more steps before speaking again.

BigDog: Progress is made, but there is still more ahead of us. And what do we have this week? Another federation that I know little about. But isn't it always fun to try new things?

Of course, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Last week, I had never met Ravager before either. And yet, there he was declaring before I had even opened my mouth that he was better than me. He knew it, and it was only a matter of time before I knew it too.

And yet, my ears were not deceiving me when I heard those two little words come out of his mouth.

"I Quit".

So simple, and yet so powerful. In the second and a half it took him to utter those words, I knew what I needed to know. But more importantly, I knew that he knew it too. He started the week disrespecting me, but he ended it knowing that, on that night, he had met a better man.

One might think that the next young punk to cross my path would take heed of that abject lesson that Ravager learned and try a different tactic. Sadly, these young guys today don't seem to learn very well.

Harold ... may I call you Harold? ... you may count yourself among the smartest men to ever set foot inside a squared circle. Sure, you might know your way around a computer. I'm sure you can work magic with a keyboard and screen in front of you. But you see, wrestling intelligence is not something you can learn from books or in text on a screen.

No, you only learn that by crawling through those ropes and learning something about yourself. How much pain can you take? How well can you adapt to the offense your opponent is throwing at you? When your tank is on empty and you're absolutely sure you can't go any longer, where will you find the resolve to get up one more time?

None of that is on a page anywhere, young man. It's different for everyone.

You need no history lessons from me, and you'll receive none. I don't win matches with my resume. I win them in the middle of the ring. I will waste no breath explaining to you how much A1E means to me because I know it means nothing to you. However, that does not mean it won't play a part in this match.

Because, you see, I know where those points are for me. When I'm beaten, when I'm bloody, when I'm so tired that I'd give anything to crawl in a hole and die, that's where I find it. I find the will to go on, and the key to that will is fighting for something I believe in. And believe me, junior, there is nothing I believe in more than my home federation.

I have spilled more blood there than you'll see in your career. I have won and lost titles, and all along the way the fans of A1E have been behind me.

Ravager thought he could make me say "I Quit". Only too late did he come to realize that I am physically incapable of saying those words. You want to beat me? Find a way to put my shoulders to the mat. And just pray that they stay there for the three count.

As the saying goes, there's no school like the old school. And you're about to get your first lesson.

10-18-06, 11:22 PM
(FADEIN to a nearly bare locker room, where Harold A. Lumbourgh sits, taping his fists. An open laptop sits on the counter... he breathes quietly and finally turns towards the camera and speaks, more seriously than before.)

HAL: "You'll have to excuse me if I've left the basement, Big Dog. But sooner or later, this moment had to come, didn't it?

"And again, you'll have to excuse me if your name-dropping of Ravager doesn't impress me anymore than your A1E resume does.

"The amusing thing, Big Dog, is that I warned you about this. I warned you not to bother bragging about what you'd done. After all, in a tournament like this... we all come from great places. And your world is no bigger or more important than mine simply because you believe it to be so.

"Even MORE amusing, Big Dog, is your implication that somehow, you, as some unique and wonderful man, are allowed to cast dispersions and make condescending and arrogant statements before you have even met your opponent in the ring.

"You warn me with one breath not to imagine myself as better than you, then proceed to tell me, quite literally, that you have already spilled more blood than I will ever."

(He smirks, chuckles, giggles, snorts, and then his face goes back to normal.)

HAL "So amusing. You'd think someone with so much history and experience and knowledge of his own thresholds would have avoided such a rank and file mistake.

"So sure of yourself against an opponent you've never met? Or even seen wrestle, I imagine. After all, if you HAD bothered to do even a modicum of research, you'd have known that Ravager, much like yourself, spoke of experience and thresholds...

"... and yet when he left the ring, he had very little to say.

"Me, Big Dog? I didn't make such claims. I merely implied that you, much like your old fashioned comrades, would soon grow old and obsolete... useless to those of us who have grown weary of your tired antics.

"Yes, Big Dog, you speak so eloquently of the threshold... of reaching beyond when you have nothing left...

"Yet how can you be so shortsighted so as to make such assumptions about a man you know nothing about? Only a fool would draw such conclusions, Big Dog. An arrogant, mindless fool.

"Of course, mindless fools with less tactical grace than yourself have succeeded, haven't they, Big Dog... (cough)billgates(cough)

"But your arrogance isn't going to save you from the utter humiliation of being sent home by a man with little to no history and more interest in the new Asynchronous Java libraries than your so-called old school lessons.

"The only lesson taught in that ring, Big Dog, is going to be about underestimating your opponent... about walking into a match with no plan, no strategy, except remembering the whistful titles over people I'll never care to know...

"Oh yes, Big Dog. I AM going to push you. I AM going to knock you down.

"Yet somehow, despite the fact that I'm sure you fail even to understand the basic etiquette of WoW, you may very well pin these shoulders.

"Because unlike you and your ceaseless ignorant, beffudled, and altogether hypocritical mindset, I am very well aware of ALL of the possibilities and probabilities going into this match.

"I have prepared, Big Dog. For victory. For defeat. For you being so flagrantly stupid that I could not possibly breech your senseless walls and understand how you even operate, much less exist in a logical, functional world.

"Perhaps that will give me the upper hand. No matter, Big Dog. Because tomorrow, win or lose... I will still be the future of this sport.

"And you? Old School?

"Old news."